


Portrait

by Fade_Writer13



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, cuteness, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fade_Writer13/pseuds/Fade_Writer13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family portrait can sing a thousand words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Portrait

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thank you to myth-and-mischief on tumblr fro their help with A Raven's Child and A Raven Reborn.

Empty jars stained by old colours lay strewn about the study floor. Canvases covered in black paint and holds lay on the sofas and tables. A painters easel stands in the centre of the room with a blank canvas sitting, ready to filled. Dirthamen brushed his hair back with paint cover fingers. He had done something unforgivable and wished to right the wrongs he had committed.

He started with a simple sketch of himself, standing next to Fen'Harel or, as the name he truly knew him by, Solas. He had made so many attempts at drawing a young child but with no way of knowing what the son would have looked like, he could not make the painting seem realistic enough to him.

He started with the head then the body. Kind eyes with a gently smile. Long reddish hair, that was floating slightly like him own and vibrant blue eyes like his fathers. A royal blue tunic made of sheer see through silk. Boots made of dark leather reaching up to his knees. A necklace bearing a Raven and a wolf to symbolize his heritage.

It was done. He had little time to speak to his former lover but the portrait sat in the elf’s study with a simple note. Waiting to be read.

:

Solas stripped out of his armour, retiring to his study. The portrait sat in plain sight. He gazed upon its beauty. He could tell it had been painted by Dirthamen. All the beginner brush strokes and simple colour scheme only added to its beauty. He picked up the carefully folded note, reading it to himself as he sat in his dark red, leather chair.

Solas,

I know we parted on less than happy terms. I wish to gift this to you as an apology. Imagine this is us in a time where no one can stop us from being happy. I truly hope this day will soon come, my love.

Dirthamen.

He smiled, eventually hanging the painting above his fireplace. He always stared at it when felt alone, to remind him of happier times.

:

It did and yet caused more pain. The letter in his hand, the book full of portraits, the loss of a child. The tears were real, the pain was real as was the reality of what he had lost. A lover and a son, the family they had once desired to obtain. The painting had meant more than he could have ever realized. It was telling him he had a son. Dirthamen had hidden their son out of fear. Elgar'nan had already made it clear that any sons Dirthamen or Falon'Din had would be in danger. Falon'Din had taken the risk and lost his son. Dirthamen had refused to put their son at risk but in the end, still lost him.

He stood, taking out his paints along with a blank canvas. He began to sketch his version of Dirthamen’s painting. He started with Dirthamen. He sketched the God wearing a dark cloak with Ravens perched on his shoulders. He made sure to give the elf kind eyes, just as he had had in life. He made Tamlen older, much older as to match his real counterpart. Tamlen was drawn sitting, dressed in black with his Raven on his arm which was extended out. His black hair carefully painted as long braid with tiny silver ornaments weaved into it. His compassionate blue eyes now drew the viewers gaze to him. Lastly, himself. He stared at the painting. He did not know how to represent himself aside from the wolf portraits he had been doing. He thought long and hard before picking up his brush and painting himself along side his lover and son.

He hid the paintings within Skyhold upon completion. No one would see them, not unless he wished them to be seen. Now was the time to complete his plan, set his plans in motion. They had to pay for what they had done so he brought down the view as their final punishment.

~*~

“Father…did you paint these?”

Dirthamen looked up at Tamlen as they cleaned an older area of the castle. He recognized only one, unsure as to who did the other. It was clearly the elf after moving closer that the portrait had been painted by Solas. It was of them plus an accurate representation of Tamlen. Tears fell, creating tiny droplets on the ground as he broke into a sob. Tamlen stared at his father with concerned eyes, taking the painting before hugging him. Solas had paintings this after their deaths. He felt terrible and yet, comforted but the fact that he found a way to immortalize them.

“Come.” He said wiping the tears from his eyes. “Let us hang these.” He picked both paintings up. “I think it’s time the world saw their beauty.”


End file.
